"What did you find out, Sammy?"

I jumped at the sound of Dean's voice as Sam walked in. My breath rushed out in a gush. I'd been very absorbed in pretending to pay attention to my research. Sam shot me a smile as he sat across the table from me and we put the pieces together. "Jacob Williams is definitely our Dead Dock Boy. The cops suspected Stacey's high school boyfriend but couldn't prove it."

My face was grim. It was time to drop my little bomb. "I dug in to St. Luke's. There was a wing in the psych ward for special cases. And by special cases, I mean… uh… knocked up unmarried chicks." Sam and Dean looked confused. "Stacey was in that wing. Most of the records were sealed but… Stacey had a little girl, adopted locally."

"So this Dead Dock Boy has a kid running around somewhere?" I could see Sam and Dean connecting the dots as Dean asked his question.

"Not just somewhere, Dean." I sighed. "Kirsti is adopted. From the St. Luke's Lost Lamb Adoption Placement Foundation. The date of her adoption coincides with the date that Stacey signed paperwork relinquishing her parental rights. Her birthday happens to be the same as Stacey's baby, too."

"Shit." Dean muttered. I nodded in agreement.

Sam grabbed a beer from the fridge. "What does this mean for the case?"

"It could mean nothing, and I can forget I ever found out. That is, if we can find Jacob's body for a salt and burn. All of his personal property is in Lincoln, which is a hell of a drive on an off chance…" I sighed. "If we can't we may need her help."

"I don't like where this is going." Sam sat back on his chair, running a hand through is hair.

"It's just a contingency. I found some digital copies of occult histories. Vengeful spirits don't just come from nowhere, right? Unfinished business, righting a wrong, whatever, it can trap them here."

"That's ghosts 101, babe."

I glared at Dean. And his stupid smirk. "I have a theory. If Jacob knew Stacey was pregnant, he may have told her to run when the high school boyfriend showed up, right? Maybe he stuck around to see his kid? And now it's been over 25 years, and he hasn't seen his kid or his woman, and maybe he's angry and bitter, because he thinks she took the kid and ran?"

Sam looked thoughtful.

"So we get kirsti to the lake to have a lifetime movie moment with a ghost that's right out of a slasher flick?" Dean was skeptical. I didn't blame him.

"I didn't get that far, actually. I know it's a long shot, but, you know." I shrugged. It was better than nothing.

"It's somewhere to start." Sam smiled reassuringly. I saw Dean's eyes narrow as he looked at his brother. Once again, I wished I spoke the Winchester's silent language.

24 hours and another victim later, and we hadn't made any headway. "We need to gank this son of a bitch." Dean was pacing up and down the cabin. I sat on the floor, stretching my sore muscles. I thought I caught Dean watching me once or twice, but he looked away too fast for me to be sure.

"Without a body-" Sam's nose was in his laptop, but he still tried to contrihbute.

I cleared my throat. It was still scratchy, but it hurt less to talk. "I've been thinking about our options-"

"What options?" Dean was snappish ever since they had found that last body, that morning.

"Kirsti has always talked about finding her birth parents… I think we should give my idea a shot."

Sam and Dean's first reaction was to argue. When those two got going, it was best to just let them hash it out. Sam was pro giving it a shot, Dean was anti doing anything that may get someone hurt. I was in the both of you shut the hell up and listen camp, but it took a while for them to have a break in their verbal pissing contest so I could pipe up. "Listen! Jesus. Okay, so we draw out Jacob, keep Kirsti in the dock house in a salt circle, and we lead him to her or summon him right there. Worst case, we fill him with salt shells and go back to the drawing board. Best case, we finish his business and he moves on all by himself."

Dean and I stared eachother down when I finished. He didn't trust me, and it really friggen bugged me. Then again, I didn't trust him either.

"I've got this, Dean. Jesus, I can do my part. Trust me." Dean opened his mouth to argue, and my temper flared. "I am NOT having this conversation with you. I can handle a little ghost."

Sam looked back and forth between us, shook his head, and snuck into the spare room.

"Yeah? You handled him real good last time." Dean's eyes burned. Mine flashed.

"I did a damn good job under the circumstances. I know for a fact you've been scuffed up yourself. I've see the scars." I got to my feet. My muscles protested. Traitors.

"Well… You're smarter than me. Youi should know better." Dean closed the distance between us in a few short strides. My breath caught as he softly fingered my bruises. I was going to have to start wearing a turtle neck until this damn thing was over with. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Jesus, Dean." I pushed his hand away from my throat. "you don't have to feel responsible for me." His eyes darkened as he moved even closer. "I don't know what you are trying to do, Dean, but I am going to get this ghost, alone if I have to." I took a step back. I couldn't let him cloud my mind right now. Or ever, for that matter. Not again.

"You won't be alone." Dean's voice was barely above a whisper as he sat at the table. I sighed in relief, sitting across from him.

"Okay, so what now?"

"We gank us a ghost."